


In Black and White

by TruePrussian



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Dreams, Gen, Graphic Description, Hetalia Headcanons, I Don't Even Know, Made up future, Read at Your Own Risk, Russia maybe, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-04 23:10:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6679225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TruePrussian/pseuds/TruePrussian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>America gets nightmares often. If it is from a fear of his or past memories, those around him are worried about him. H e doesn't like to sleep with people because of this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Black and White

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for a contest, but if you want me to make any future chapters of different dreams, then comment please! I hope you like it!

He felt cold. The dark and damp concrete room was empty. He waited for hours on end for some sort of interaction. He knew it would be bad anyways, but didn't care. He really didn't have anyone else to be with at the moment. He just needed someone - anyone - to be with.

He would kill to see Matthew right now. But Matthew was busy. He has to fight for him. He has to keep America safe. It didn't seem like anyone but him was on his side right now. Alfred didn't really understand why his nation decided to do this. He didn't even have a say in anything. He was forced to sit in the conference in silence because his boss told him so. And when they told him to go to war, he felt crushed. It was a stupid idea and look at where it brought the rest of the world. Matt was out there fighting for God's sake because he was stuck in this goddamn room.

He sat up, needing to remove the ache in his back. He wishes he could've at least had the privilege of getting to walk around the room. He looked down at his wrists, bruised from the shackles. They weren't really painful or uncomfortable, they were just irritating because they were restricting his liberty, containing the freedom of his country. He could hear the chains clink together as he moved and wish they were mute so that he wouldn't have to deal with a constant sound of metal against the wall behind him.

The solid door, equipped with its own metal lock, creaked and opened. He came in. Alfred cringed having to see his face. But it was at least someone to talk to. All Alfred had to do was remember that he's here to take away his own country. Alfred wouldn't allow it.

"So, you have yet to crack... It is starting to annoy me, Alfred. You know I was never a patient man," he said. 

Alfred stayed silent.

"Hm, not in the mood for talking?" he said. "I guess I could cut out your tongue."

Alfred continued with his silence and kept his eye contact strong.

He just sighed and took Alfred's chin in his hand, tugging the other forward harshly. "It's such a pity these blue eyes have seen such horrible things. Death, abandonment, love... But I suppose those have all gone away by now," he said, brushing his thumb along the edge of Alfred's face. "But to be fair, those eyes have sinned my own as well." He let go of Alfred and stood up straight so that he wasn't bent over the other anymore. "I might as well gouge out your eyes... No, that doesn't seem appropriate. I want you to be able to see your own wonderful shade of red." He had such a vicious smile. It looked over used, and yet Alfred had never seen that smile before.

Alfred knew that he was a horrible person. Of course, he let it go most of the time and just became a bit aggressive, but never fully violent. Alfred has heard stories about him like this before. He never treated Alfred like this often, only when something serious like this was happening. Alfred stayed quiet.

He just stared, his face unsatisfied. "Not even a flinch? You really are a hero; to an extent of course. You might be fighting for you and your country in here, but your people are dying out there because you can't seem to think for anyone but yourself."

Alfred would respond, but anything Alfred would say would be used against himself. Alfred didn't want America to fall because he opened his mouth. 

He wasn't pleased. "Fine," he said, pulling a small pistol out of it's holster and bringing it to one of Alfred's eyes. "How would you like this?" Alfred didn't even flinch.

Now he was getting mad. He didn't have to do it, but he could. He could, and he knew it would break the other. He knew it wasn't necessary for any other purpose. He wouldn't use it just yet. He lowered his gun. "I'm done playing these silly games of yours. Speak up or I'll hurt you!" Alfred knew what was going to happen but he couldn't be afraid of the inevitable. 

He threw a kick to Alfred's chest, getting a cough out of the man, but it wasn't enough. He punched him in the jaw, beating his face into a raw mess. He could see bruises forming and small openings were spilling with blood from past events of the same situation. Alfred was literally his personal punching bag since the other had no option but to sit there and take it. After countless collisions of violence, he was enraged. "When are you going to give up?" he yelled.

"Never" was the first spoken word out of the other's mouth. Alfred kept his eyes on the man's, because if Alfred stopped, weakness would show. 

The other went silent. "I'm finished. This is the last time anything you'll say will be a lie..." He stormed out of the room as Alfred watched on.

Alfred could hear yelling from outside of the room, but made no effort to get up. Some of the voices that collided between each other sounded like the man's, and others were unknown. But one sounded desperate. It was getting closer. His captivator was coming back with someone else.

He came in the room leaving the other person outside the room to just keep quiet or more consequences would ensue. He marched up quickly towards Alfred and said, "Close your eyes." Alfred made no such movement. "CLOSE THEM OR I'LL SHOOT!" He had pulled out his gun once again. 

Alfred knew what could happen. If his capital wasn't taken over yet, he would come back, only with his country suffering from major disasters. But he didn't know if they'd gotten to Washington yet, and so, he closed his eyes. Alfred could hear the man leave and drag the stranger into the cold room, throwing them at Alfred's feet.

Alfred heard the other's cries, felt the weight of their tears, and tasted the bitterness that the man above them both was giving away. In between those muffled cries, he could hear familiarity. He felt something for the other. Who was it? 

Alfred knew exactly who it was before the man told him to open his eyes. 

Matthew was tied around the ankles, and knees so that he couldn't walk. He couldn't even separate his calves from his thighs. His elbows were behind him and his wrists were tied, resting between his shoulder blades. He had rags tying him up like so and had two tied around his head. One to cover his mouth so that he wouldn't be as loud, and one around his eyes, so that he couldn't see what was happening. He seemed to be bleeding a bit from the side of his head because of the fall when he was thrown. Alfred's blue eyes went wide.

He smirked, gun in hand. "Finally," he whispered to himself under his breath. He spoke up.

"Now then, at last you'll see what I'm truly capable of..."

"I know you're capable of killing. You've killed the innocent before," Alfred said, and all the other could do was grin.

"I know you think your brother is strong, and I believe you, he is. But at the moment, you know nothing. He could very well be in my control. If I killed him know, he could disappear, permanently," he said.

Alfred pulled against his chains. If he hadn't have been captured when his country was desperate, he would have been able to break them in a pinch, but his country was losing, and therefore he was too.

The man pulled away the rag in Matthew's mouth. "Speak," he said.

"Woof," Matthew replied. 

He hadn't hesitated. He hadn't doubted or flinched. No cough or anything besides that. He was broken. Of course, Alfred knew that you can always fix something that was broken and Matthew was no different. It was just odd to see his brother in such a way.

"Good boy," the man above them both said. He raised his gun slightly, angling it towards the other's head. "You deserve a treat for being such a good boy."

Alfred was in complete shock, and as he heard the safety being taken off, he closed his eyes and said, "Knock me out now."

A gunshot was heard.

__________

Alfred opened his eyes. He had Matthew at the foot of his hotel bed. He had a glass of water in hand and placed it on the nightstand next to Alfred's bed. He hugged Matthew and started to cry. He was alive. It was all just a dream. Thank God... It was only a dream. He felt his heart shudder as he held Matthew closely. 

After Alfred was able to calm himself down a bit he took the water and drank it quickly. It cooled his heated, sweaty body. 

"You had a nightmare again, didn't you?" Matthew said. He didn't mean it as an inconvenience. He just felt bad that Alfred had to go through that once again. Alfred simply nodded his head as he sighed, reclining in his bed sheets. Matthew nodded as well and said, "You were sleep walking again, and you nearly left the room. I brought you back in bed and got you some water. You started muttering and then woke up... I hope you feel better."

"I'm fine, Matt," Alfred said, looking at the clock. It said 5:27. "But you need to get some sleep. I know I won't get anymore, but you'll need some since you're presenting at the meeting today."

Matthew looked a bit disappointed but it didn't stand out. Maybe he was just tired. He nodded anyways and got in the bed next to Alfred's in their hotel room.

Alfred went to their small bathroom and closed the door, turning on the lights. He washed his face and brushed his teeth. He removed the white tank top he was wearing and looked at his stomach. He looked pretty thin. It wasn't his fault. He had been fat-shamed so often that it got into his dreams and now he has a small case of anorexia. He put the shirt back on. He looked more normal since you couldn't see the gap. 

Buy the way that Matthew looked in his dream; He looked like he had been starving for weeks. Alfred decided that he was going to have cream in his coffee today.

__________

Alfred sat down around the rounded table along side all of the other nations that have gathered in London for the present World Conference. He was a bit early since neither him or Matthew had anything to do that morning. Some other nations like Romania, Belarus and Poland had arrived. Germany was here early and had been preparing the presentations and note sheets for everyone ever since.

Alfred looked around the somewhat empty room and saw him enter. Alfred cringed. He didn't want to look at the other's face. It was upsetting. He saw the man sit down in the seat next to him.

"You seem to be here early, don't you America?" he said. It stung to hear that voice.

"Yes, I am," Alfred responded.

"Not in the mood for talking this morning?" Every word of his was reminding him of the event he imagined during the night.

"No, I'm not," Alfred said through gritted teeth. In the corner of his eye he could see France approaching.

"Oh, America, didn't expect to see you so early this morning," he cooed.

"Everyone seems to be picking on me for being here early. It's better than being late."

"Hm, well, I hope jerk Britain doesn't disturb you too much today," he said, laughing as he went to find his own seat.

England yelled after the other nation, but all Alfred could here was "When are you going to give up?!"


End file.
